


nobody puts baby in the corner

by TrekFaerie



Series: love detroit [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Butch/Femme, Couch Sex, F/F, Female Ejaculation, Size Kink, Stone Butch, Vaginal Fingering, Wire Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 22:21:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15229200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrekFaerie/pseuds/TrekFaerie
Summary: A pretty girl in your lap, and bad movies on the TV.





	nobody puts baby in the corner

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [fem!hank and connor designs](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/396705) by nochesmiles. 



> it was some very inspiring fanart okay
> 
> also thanks to hannor discord for answering with a good weeb name for a female sumo before reasonably asking why i needed to genderbend a fucking dog, i fucks with y'all

She was pretty as a picture, curled up on Hank's couch, dwarfed by both Hank's ratty old police sweatshirt and the furry bulk of a cuddling Makka, wide doll's eyes focused intently on the carnage of the late-night B movie they were watching. She was smiling-- she always smiled, she was designed to smile, they might as well have painted it on if they were so damn set on its constant presence-- but it wasn't the slightly unnatural, mildly unsettling beaming she kept on at all times in front of other humans. It was smaller, and softer, and realer. The one she reserved just for her.

It was something an old broad could get used to, easy.

Those eyes, watery and brown like the ones of the St. Bernard snoring on her lap, were turned towards Hank, now, looking at her curiously. "You haven't been paying attention to the movie for the past three and a quarter minutes, Lieutenant," she said in a chiding tone, the odd, piping octaves of her mechanized voice having gone from annoying to sweet incredibly quickly.

"Why would I watch some dumb old movie when I can just look at you all day?" Her arm had been around her shoulders, and she used the leverage to draw her in for a quick nip of a kiss.

There was a furrow in her brow, a look of confusion in her eyes that never quite reached the quirked-up corners of her lips. "Isn't this one your favorite?" she asked.

"You're my favorite." She kissed her again, perhaps with a bit more teeth.

Connie cocked her head to the side. "Makkachin," she said, suddenly, "down. Bed."

Makka opened one bleary eye, gazing at them both of them morosely, as if trying to figure out if they were truly serious. With a loud, defeated boof, she picked herself up on her massive paws and tumbled off the couch, heading off to her bed.

With a smooth movement of one elegant little leg, Connie was in Hank's lap, her knees on either side of Hank's hips. Her skirt, the same she'd worn to work that day, hiked up around her thighs, revealing even more pale skin. "Perhaps you would find this activity more engrossing," she said, demurely looking up at her through thick lashes.

Hank grinned, wordlessly slipping her hands under the back of the sweatshirt. She ran her large hands up and down Connie's sides before resting just behind her ribs. She could feel the plastisteel like corded muscle beneath pale skin, smooth and warm and freckled, the way it flexed and adjusted like living flesh as Connie moved her arms to drape across Hank's shoulders. She leaned forward and kissed her, the scrape of chapped skin against plush softness.

"Could you take off my panties?"

The suddenness of the question made her laugh. "You're just all different kinds of forward today, aren't you, kid?"

"If I soak through these ones, there will be none left. I will have to do laundry three days early, which will completely throw off my detergent measurements..." 

The way she said it was soundly logical, reasonable, but Lord, the implications. _I've ruined every pair of panties I own because you keep fucking me so good._ Connie had been designed to placate the human ego, and they'd done a damn fine job of it.

"You could wear a pair of mine." Her nose wrinkled at that, and Hank laughed. "No, that'd be like putting a circus tent over a broom, huh? Maybe you could just go commando. Let Gwen see the outline of your pussy in those tight jeans you have so she'll have something to jerk off to."

"I don't believe Olga would be very happy with me if I did that."

"Yeah, sure, don't wanna piss off Little Sister Ice Princess..." She put a hand under Connie's skirt, hooking her thumbs into the elastic and tugging her panties halfway down her thighs. "This good enough?"

Her LED went a blinky yellow, then blue as she shook her head. "I could still squirt," she said. "There is a 63% chance of that occurring."

"Jesus-- You're gonna kill me, you know that, right?" She pulled them off completely, manhandling Connie's legs to make the process easier. She held them out in front of her, lacy and pink and small enough to fit easily in her palm. "There. Nice and safe, right?"

"Thank you, Harriet."

There were very few people in the world that could use Hank's full name without earning themselves a punch in the jaw. Her parents were long dead. Her ex-wife had lost that privilege years ago. The only one left was the lithe little robot in her lap.

She trailed her fingers up Connie's thighs, dragging a thumb through the already increasing wetness before reaching the source. Between her legs, Connie was very much different than any other woman Hank had ever been with: barely there hair over barely there lips, a labia smooth and flat as anything (clearly a man had designed her; what woman would seemingly entirely forget the clit?), a neat hole leading to a passage so velvety and lacking in texture it seemed more like sticking your fingers in a pudding than a pussy. But, she reacted like any other girl, breathy whines and light moans as she tried to rock her hips down on the two fingers inside of her.

Pressing down let you feel the wires, though, the thick tendrils of sensors that made up her biosystems. She'd grown familiar with each one: the smaller ones that made her cry out when stroked just right; the fat ones that radiated heat the closer she drew to orgasm; the odd tangle that made her voice go all static and clipped like a broken radio. It was that she pressed into hard, bringing in a third finger to fully encircle it.

"H-Hank--" Her cheeks and nose were tinted a light blue. "You fee--l so... Mor-r-r-e, please..."

"So greedy..." She used her other hand to wrap around Connie's body, pressing their arms together. "Come on, pretty girl. Come for me."

With a sound like lightning striking, Connie clenched around her fingers like a vice, her arms wrapping tight as her body locked up and shook violently. Wetness poured from her in waves, drenching Hank's hand down to the wrist, dripping onto her jeans and the couch.

"Oh, look at you. You're so good. So good for me." She kissed the corner of Connie's mouth, her rictus smile frozen open in a silent cry of pleasure. She held her tight until the trembling stopped, until her muscles clicked back to functioning and she went slack and languid in her arms. "God, you're beautiful."

She gently slipped her fingers out of her and made to wipe off the wetness on her shirt, but Connie took her wrist in a firm grip and brought her hand up to her mouth, her clever tongue cleaning up every stray droplet of slick. She then kissed her, licking her mouth open, sharing the sweetness of herself with her like a gift.

"Perfect girl... Perfect, pretty girl I have..."

**Author's Note:**

> Jezebel Kamski: hey guys you forgot the clit on this one again  
> some hapless dude CyberLife engineer: the fucking what?


End file.
